a Few Weeks in Autumn
by Dold Lejon
Summary: Dean and Sam have decided to remain in a north woods, Minnesota town after going there in search of a ghoul. The ghoul proved to be a hoax, and Dean wants a break for a little while. He finds himself meeting someone in a chilly park, and they form a bond Dean doesn't want to break.
1. Chapter 1

"Dan?"

The name rings through the small, cramped coffee house, and no one responds. Again, "Dan?" Nothing.

Dean Winchester looks up at the confused barista, and after a few other names are called, Dean himself finally walks up to the counter. Why did these guys always have to screw up names? Dean was simple enough. Dean stared down the barista as he approached, before finally speaking, "Did you mean _Dean_, perhaps?" he inquires, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. As always.

"Uh, sure," The barista mumbles, looking down and pushing the cup of coffee toward Dean. Dean grabs it and turns, miffed over the fact they had yet again screwed up his name. There had been Sean, Dan, Ian, and some other oddballs here and there, and he'd had about enough. Maybe the coffee place a couple blocks over was better.

"Castiel?"

Dean pays no mind to the name at first, but his curiosity peaks when he realizes this name is probably screwed up, too. He turns, eyeing the crowd of waiting coffee-drinkers, looking for whoever this 'Castiel' may be. Dean was willing to bet it was actually a Cassie, or maybe even Gabrielle. Dean bites the inside of his lip to hide a smirk as he watches a dark haired man approach the counter. However, the contact the man makes with the barista is short and friendly. Dean scowls before tuning and leaving the coffee shop. Who in the as the name Castiel?

It's early autumn, but it's also still pretty chilly. Dean and Sam had made their way up to a remote, Minnesota town in search of some ghoul or ghost, but after it all turned out to be a hoax, Dean decided they needed a little vacation.

The town was nice enough. It had a friendly, north woods vibe. Everything was rustic and there were plenty of moose-related souvenirs Dean had wanted to buy for Sam. He had to fight the urge as he passed storefronts with his warm cup of coffee in hand. This was what Dean figured counted as down town, and it wasn't much at that. There was a strip of stores on either side, tall and with what one could assume were apartments above them. It was cozy, no one could deny that.

Dean was currently headed to the small park located a few blocks over from the coffee shop, and by a few, it was only about two. A chilly breeze kicked up crinkle leaves in a whirlwind across the sidewalk. Dean tugged the collar of his jacket tighter about his neck, shoving his free hand into a pocket after doing so. Maybe he did need a scarf; Sam _had _been nagging him to buy one. Dean sniffled, the tip of his nose chilled, as he approached the park.

The trees were like giant, round paintbrushes. They contrasted with the blue sky due to their warm shades of gold, red, orange, and brown. Their fallen leaves dusted the landscape, and the grass had faded from a bright, healthy green to a dried out, yellowed green in the week Sam and Dean had been in the town. Dean secretly admired autumn, and everything about it, though he was wary to admit this to anyone. It was the season of apples, cinnamon, and all the pie you could eat.

Dean made his way to an empty bench, ignoring the fact the whole park was empty at this time of day. It was just a little before 11:00 a.m., and Dean enjoyed the solitude of the park. He sipped at his coffee, cursing as he nearly burned his tongue, and then listened to the rustling of leaves and the creak of the old play ground behind him. It was extremely peaceful, so peaceful Dean didn't notice footsteps behind him.

"Is… this seat taken?"

Dean jumped, turning to look at the dark haired man who had asked the question. Dean was immediately wary; it was the guy from the coffee shop, the man named Castiel. Had he followed Dean? Dean gave him a good, quick look, from head to toe. He seemed a little exhausted, and his coat was wrinkled in a devil may care manner. Dean just could not stop going back to those dark, tired eyes, though.

"No, no," Dean finally said, snapping back to attention. He looked down at his coffee, his cheeks flushing slightly, "It's free," Dean said, looking back up at the man. His expression was unchanging. Dean now felt almost as though he were being examined. He brought his hand from his pocket, suddenly, offering it to the man.

"The name's Dean."

Castiel in return simply stared at the hand offered, and then, as if it slowly dawned on him, he grasped Dean's hand and shook it firmly, but still in some manner managed to have a tired, weak grip. All the same, he offered and obviously forced smile, and Dean smiled in the same manner in return.

"My name is Castiel," The dark haired man said, letting his hand drop from Dean's. He then lowered himself onto the bench, sitting stiffly. Dean looked him over, cocking an eyebrow curiously. Dean then scanned the park, only to find the two of them were alone. Dean let himself look over Castiel once again, but he did his best to do so discreetly. Was this guy a demon or something? Had he actually followed him here? Dean was not big on believing in coincidence. "Nice weather," Castiel said after Dean had studied him for a time. Dean nearly jumped at the voice, almost forgetting this man even had one.

"Ah, yeah, the weather is gorgeous," Dean said, turning to face the park completely. Yet he couldn't help but try and look at Castiel out of the corner of his eye. "I really love autumn," Dean added, glancing over at Castiel. "You?"

"This is a very nice season," Castiel confirmed, nodding his head stiffly. He sipped at his coffee, if it was coffee, tentatively. Dean did the same, not sure what to say to the man.

"What're you drinking?"

"Apple cider," Castiel stated, turning himself to better face Dean. Dean closed his eyes momentarily. Was he trying to shake off this guy already? Dean opened his eyes, doing his best to not seem suspicious. "What are you drinking?" Castiel asked when Dean said nothing.

"Ah, well," Dean lifted his cup a bit, "this is a mocha latte," he admitted, his cheeks growing a bit flushed. Sam always teased Dean about how much sugar, chocolate, milk, or caramel Dean would pour into his coffee. Dean had a bit of a sweet tooth, at least when it came to coffee. Black coffee just didn't do it.

"Is it any good?" Castiel asked, still focused, nearly unblinking, on Dean. Dean shrugged.

"I guess," Dean said, looking over and catching Castiel in his gaze. Castiel immediately looked a bit flustered and glanced away, now looking everywhere other than at Dean. Dean smirked in response to this action, until he mentally kicked himself for flirting. Was this flirting? Dean straightened up, sighing and inhaling the stale, autumn air. When he looked back at Castiel he found the man staring at him yet again.

"So, Castiel, what do you do?" Dean asked, turning his head towards Castiel. Castiel took another sip from his steaming cup and he appeared to be deep in thought.

"Stuff," Castiel finally confessed, quietly. Dean raised his eyebrows, a short, harsh bark of a laugh escaping his lips.

"Well, I do stuff, too," Dean said, shaking his head in amusement. He was still confused by what this man wanted with him. Upon looking back at Castiel, Dean found him staring yet again. Dean sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Quickly, Dean stood, turning to stare at Castiel.

"Look, why did you follow me here?" Dean demanded, his gaze intimidating and unrelenting. Castiel's eyes widened as he looked up at Dean in awe. Castiel himself stood, then, and looked Dean in the eyes as best as he could manage.

"I did follow you, Dean, but… but…" Castiel stammered, appearing as though he were searching for the right words, "not for the reasons you are thinking. I just… want to know you," Castiel explained, dropping his gaze and hoping his broken explanation made some sense. Dean knit his brows together in confusion, trying to make sense of it. Were they flirting?

"Okay, okay I appreciate what you're saying… I think, but I have… I just gotta go," Dean said, turning his back on Castiel abruptly. Castiel looked up now, distraught. This was not what he had planned on happening.

"Dean, please," Castiel said, still grappling for words. Dean halted for a moment. "Can we meet here tomorrow, at the same time, please? I would just like someone to talk to," Castiel said, his voice a soft monotone. Dean crammed his eyes closed, not sure if he would regret saying yes, or regret saying no. He slowly turned back to face Castiel, opening his eyes but not making eye contact right away.

"Fine, same time tomorrow," Dean said, fixing his gaze back on Castiel for a moment. Then, as suddenly as Castiel had appeared earlier, Dean vanished, with the same silence. A breeze blew and ruffled the fallen leaves as Castiel watched the retreating form of Dean, but all Castiel cared about was finally nailing down someone he could talk to. Even if it was just small talk.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Dean went back to the coffee shop again. He waited around for a little bit, but Castiel never came in. Maybe he was not in the mood for coffee today, Dean figured. Even so, Dean decided to order two small apple ciders. It was chillier today than it was the pervious day, and Dean still did not have a scarf. Or glove, for that matter.

After the barista managed to yet again screw up Dean's name, Dean left the shop with the two drinks in his hands. They kept his hands warm on the way to the park, but nothing kept Dean from feeling awkward and suspicious. Was this really a good idea to go and meet this guy again? He was really creepy, after all. Dean tried to push all the possible outcomes of today out of his mind, along with all of his suspicions. Instead he focused on how the leaves crunched under his feet as he walked across the park, and how there were no other people here. Castiel was seated on the run down little bench, facing away from Dean.

"Hey, Castiel," Dean said, smiling as Castiel nearly jumped. He handed a rather confused Castiel the cup of cider with a smile still on his face. "It's apple cider, like you were drinking yesterday. Hope you like the stuff," Dean mumbled, sitting down next to Castiel.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said softly. He held the warm cup of cider in his hands as if he had no clue what to do with it. "Thank you," he finally said, a bit crestfallen. He now felt as if he owed Dean something. Dean noticed the expression.

"Hey, don't worry. It's damn cold. Figured we'd need something to keep us warm," Dean explained, crossing one leg over the other. "Mind if I call you Cas, or something, by the way?" Dean asked, turning to look at Castiel. His name was a mouthful, at least when the only names Dean ever really had to say were short, like Sam, or Bobby.

"I.. uh, Cas is fine, Dean," Castiel said, looking down at the cup of cider in his hands. He brought it to his lips and took a sip, savoring the warm, spiced taste. It really did warm him up, too. Which only made him feel more like he owed Dean, especially because Dean had actually showed up. Castiel looked over at Dean, his eyes sorrowful. Dean observed the expression and felt a lump form in his throat.

"Do you have any friends Cas?" Dean asked, more so wondering out loud than anything. Castiel turned to look at the multi-colored trees that dotted the park. Dean took this opportunity to inch a little closer to Castiel on the bench. He had no clue why he felt so obligated to be close to this man. He did, though.

"Not particularly, no," Castiel said softly, refusing to make eye contact with Dean. Dean looked down at the ground, feeling suddenly melancholic and trapped. He had never really been completely alone; he had always had Sam around, or Bobby. He did not even try to imagine what it would be like to have no one. "Please do not feel obligated to be my friend, Dean. I do not need friends," Castiel added after Dean remained quiet, and Dean was startled from his own thoughts by this phrase.

"Hey, I wouldn't feel _obligated_, Cas. I'm sure you're a good guy, easy to get along with," Dean offered up. Castiel turned to look at him, and Dean's heart went out to those sad, empty eyes. "Cheer up, get to know me, I think I'd be a damn cool friend," Dean added, throwing on a cocky grin. Castiel smiled in retunr, though it was a very small smile.

The two made small talk the rest of the day, though they did brush on some more personal topics as well. They stayed in the chilly, autumn park until both had finished their cups of cider, and Dean's cheeks were pink from the cold. Even so, Dean found himself wanting more of Castiel, more of his company, of seeing his face. The made plans to meet again the next day, and even the day after that. The moved from the cold park to small cafes and diners, and Castiel even bought Dean a scarf at some point during the next week. They watched as snow threatened to fall and failed to do so.

Sam was growing restless with being held up in this small town, but Dean refused to leave. He was adamant in staying there, and he realized it was to be with Castiel. When Dean did realize this, he also realized he had grown too attached, and he promised Sam they would leave the next day. He also promised to meet with Castiel the next morning, and so Dean set out to do so, earlier than usual, and was not too surprised to find Castiel sitting in the park even though he was early.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said. His expression betrayed his plans, and he knew Castiel observed something was wrong.

"Dean…" Castiel said softly, his expression mirroring Dean's. Dean closed his eyes, his brow wrinkling with sorrow. Inside his chest his heart was crying out painfully, and all Dean was trying to do was convince himself to go through with this. Besides, he couldn't possibly be gay, could he?

"Look Cas, me and my brother are leaving town today," Dean said softly, his hands jammed in his pockets. He had the scarf Castiel bought him wrapped tightly around his neck. He dared to open his eyes and regretted it immediately upon seeing Castiel's pained expression.

"I see," Castiel said, his voice a monotone. Dean sighed, looking down at his scuffed up shoes and trying to keep his resolve. "I have something I would like to show you, before you leave," Castiel added, his voice sounding slightly hopeful. "If you would like to, that is," he added. Dean looked up, biting th einside of his lip as he thought over the situation. There was a good chance he would cave if he stayed in Castiel's presence for too long, but there was no way he could deny the man, not with the look on his face.

"Alright, where?" Dean asked, his shoulders sagging a bit. He hadn't realized how tense he was.

"It is in my apartment. It is not too far, just a few blocks," Castiel said, a small glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. Dean sighed, more opposed to walking too far in the cold than going to Castiel's apartment. Castiel stood, turning and then glancing back to make sure Dean would follow him, and Dean did.

Dean complained about the cold on the way to Castiel's apartment, but he said little other than that. Castiel tried to fill the silence, but gave up on doing so. He was relieved when they reached his apartment. It was a small apartment above an antique furniture shop, and there was a small door wedged between the furniture shop and a tailor's that lead up to the apartment. Castiel held the door for Dean and followed him up the narrow staircase after.

Castiel fumbled around for his apartment key, nervous. They had reached his door, and he was afraid of how this day would turn out. Upon finally finding his key, he stuck it in the lock and turned it. The opened his door and ushered Dean inside again, closing the door firmly behind them.

Castiel's apartment was a bit old, but it had a cozy feel to it. There were blankets draped over the sofa and the chair in the corner, and a small television set against the wall the door was on. Dean observed a small dining area in further, and a door to the right that lead to what he assumed was a bedroom. Large windows lined the walls of Castiel's apartment; lucky enough he had the corner apartment, so he had more windows than other people. Around the corner to the left was a small kitchen with a bathroom off of it. In all, this was where Castiel lived and spent most of his time.

"So, what is it that you needed to show me?" Dean asked, glancing around the living room uncertainly. There was a radio somewhere playing music with a rather folk tune, softly. Dean's stomach churned as he listened to the soft guitar and voices singing. _I belong with you, you belong with me. You're my sweetheart_. He looked down at the ground nervously, already feeling his resolve breaking.

"There actually is not anything to show you…" Castiel said sheepishly, standing between Dean and the door. "I had hoped if you would come here with me you would change your mind and not leave," Castiel explained after noting Dean's questioning expression. A new song had started playing in the background. It still had the same folk feel to it.

"What do you mean, Cas?" Dean demanded, channeling his disappointment in himself toward Castiel instead. Castiel's expression seemed increasingly anxious and full of regret as he noticed Dean's anger, even if the anger was not rightfully directed.

"I apologize. I simply thought… I thought we had chemistry, as you might put it," Castiel said, his voice barely loud enough to hear in the small apartment. Dean's heart started to hammer inside his chest, harder than it had been hammering already. He tried to swallow around the hard lump in his throat, but it was difficult to do. How could he admit to Castiel there _was _chemistry between them? "I thought you would stay," Castiel added, trying to make it known to Dean how important he had become to him.

Dean took a few steps toward Castiel, and before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean was kissing him. Passionately kissing him. When Castiel realized this, he brought a hand up and grabbed onto the back of Dean's neck tenderly, returning the kiss. Dean could tell Castiel was not used to this type of interaction. Even so, Castiel did his best to show Dean he was meant for this. Castiel brought his other hand up to grab onto Dean's hip, and then slowly pushed Dean back against the wall. Dean broke the kiss with a sigh as he felt himself wedged between the wall and Castiel.

Dean looked into Castiel's eyes, his own eyes full of fire and passion and desire. He brought his hands up tentatively to pull at the lapels of Castiel's coat. Castiel glanced down and it slowly dawned on him Dean wanted him to remove his coat, and so he shrugged out of it, letting it fall down to the floor, abandoned. Castiel moved both of his own hands to work at untying Dean's scarf, and slowly they stripped each other of clothes until they were both only clad in pants and socks.

Castiel moved forward to kiss Dean again, this kiss more needy and hungry than the last. Castiel rocked his hips forward, unable to control the movement, and Dean groaned softly into the kiss as he felt something rather stiff rub against him.

Dean licked at Castiel's bottom lip, trying to get him to open his mouth. Castiel wasn't catching on, however, so Dean forced his tongue past Castiel's lips, getting a groan in response. Castiel's hands wandered down to Dean's, which were placed firmly on Castiel's hips. He grabbed Dean's wrists and pinned his hands against the wall above his head, forcing his own tongue into Dean's mouth. Dean gasped as Castiel asserted himself, and it was Dean's turn to rock his hips against Castiel.

Castiel's grasp on Dean's arms lessened, and Dean broke his arms free and wrapped them around Castiel's neck. Dean sucked at Castiel's tongue as it explored his mouth. Suddenly Castiel had pulled away, however, and Dean groaned and threw his head back, softly hitting it on the wall.

"Are you sure you want this, Dean?" Castiel asked, his gaze fixed on Dean. Dean looked down, getting goose bumps from the seriousness of the expression. A smirk broke across Dean's lips a moment later.

"Yeah, I'm damn sure, Cas," Dean said, pulling Castiel back into a kiss. This was enough to get Castiel to continue.

Castiel's hands wandered all over Dean's body; his torso, his hips, he even dared to reach around to squeeze at Dean's ass. However, Castiel felt as though he were faced with a dilemma when his hands pulled softly at Dean's waistband. Was this as far as Dean was willing to go? Was Castiel pushing it? Castiel's worries were pushed from his mind when Dean reached down and unbuttoned his pants, then grabbing Castiel's hand and leading him. Dean slid Castiel's hand into his pants, but not daring to force him to put his hand into his underwear.

Castiel gasped and broke the kiss as he felt how erect Dean was. He shouldn't be so surprise, he figured. He was just as erect, if not more. So Castiel pulled his hand out and undid his own pants, pulling them down and kicking them off. Dean focused on the extremely obvious bulge in Castiel's underwear, and he felt weak in the knees. "Shit, Cas," Dean breathed, admiring his handiwork. Castiel observed Dean's fixation and a smirk actually managed to break across Castiel's lips.

"Dean," Castiel said, his voice husky and caught in his throat. He grabbed Dean by the hand and lead him over to the cough, sitting down and motioning for Dean to sit next to him. Dean did so more than willingly, but after doing so he was lost as to what to do next. Castiel knew what he wanted, however. "Remove your pants, Dean," he said, almost an order. Dean shuddered as he nodding, pulling his jeans down and kicking them off into the corner. He looked to Castiel then, wondering what was next.

Castiel leaned toward Dean, pressing him down onto the couch. He wedged himself between Dean's legs and then moved to kiss him more, and Dean welcomed the kiss eagerly. He could feel their erections rub together as they kissed and rocker their hips around. Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's waist as Castiel bucked his hips down against Dean, causing him to moan loudly. They continued to writher against each other and kiss and suck for a few minutes before Castiel pulled back.

"Dean, I need you," Castiel said, and his eyes showed this was the truth. There was a burning desire reflected in them, and it made Dean shiver. It wasn't like Dean didn't know how this worked, he had just never done this with a guy before.

"Well, uh," Dean was lost for words. He glanced down at their bodies, and then he scooted away from Castile a bit so he had room to remove his underwear. He struggled to pull them off without kicking Castiel, and when he was successful he sheepishly peeled his socks off of his feet. Dean then brought his knees up toward his chest, feeling embarrassingly exposed. Castiel looked Dean's naked body over with a hunger in his eyes.

"Your turn," Dean stated, not wanting to be the only one naked. Castiel looked up and then pulled down his own boxers, letting them fall to the floor, practically forgotten. They had hit a wall.

"Now what?" Castiel asked softly. Dean bit his lip. He highly doubted Castiel owned condoms or lube, but he wasn't particularly worried about getting anything from the man. He reached for Castiel's right hand and brought the fingers to his lips.

"You fuck me, Cas," Dean whispered softly before pushing a few of Castiel's fingers into his mouth. Castiel groaned and closed his eyes, deciding Dean would know what he was doing. Dean worked with the fingers for about a minute, soaking them with as much spit as he could and hoping it would be enough. He had about as much of a clue about this as Castiel, honestly.

Dean lead Castiel's hand down and down, positioning his hand where it need to be but then pulling his own hand away. Castiel needed to do this, especially because Dean really had no clue what he was in for. Castiel opened his eyes and bit his own lip, feeling his erection throb in appreciation for the sight before him. Dean had spread his legs open to give Castiel room, or a better view. Castiel had the same hungry eyes as before, and slowly he pushed a finger into Dean. Dean bit down on his lip, a hiss of a sigh escaping his lips. Castiel took in the sight and worked his finger around a bit before adding another, and slowly another. Dean was whimpering and moaning by the time Castiel had four fingers inside. He couldn't wait anymore, either.

"Dean," Castiel breathed, getting Dean's attention. Dean nodded, knowing what Castiel was going to ask for. Castiel in turn pulled his hand away and positioned himself between Dean's legs again. He spit into his hand and ran it over the length of his erection, catching on to the fact they needed some form of lubrication. He then fixed his gaze on Dean as he pressed against his entrance softly. Dean moaned, turning his head to the side.

Slowly, Castiel pushed himself inside Dean. He buried himself as deep as he could go and then remained there, frozen. Dean's brow was furrowed and Castiel couldn't tell if he was in pain or not. And he couldn't keep his hips still.

Castiel pulled out just as slowly as he had pushed in, only pulling out far enough so the head of his cock was still pressed inside of Dean. He pushed back in faster this time, and Dean cried out. Castiel froze immediately, his body chilled with fear of hurting Dean. "Fuck," Dean panted, opening his eyes and glancing at Castiel.

"Should I stop?" Castiel asked, his hands squeezing nervously onto Dean's thighs. Dean shook his head, a short, throaty laugh escaping his throat.

"Fuck no," Dean said, rolling his hips against Castiel softly. Castiel groaned in return, and went back to the task at hand.

Castiel pullled out again, and worked himself in again. He worked up a rhythm that had Dean moaning and crying softly under him, and he'd be damned if it wasn't the most amazing thing he had ever seen in his life. The feeling of Dean's muscles clenched around him was euphoric, and Castiel just wanted more and more of Dean.

Leaning down, Castiel caught Dean's mouth in a kiss. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Castiel's neck, but they didn't stay put for long. His hands gripped onto Castiel's shoulders, running down his back, nails digging into his skin. Castiel murmured Dean's name against his neck as he kissed him, trailing his mouth down as far as he could go in their position. He continued to push himself in and out of Dean, not even aware he had started to pick up speed.

Castiel snapped his hips rather aggressively on accident, and Dean cried out loudly in response. This cry was different, though. It fed Castiel's hunger, fueled it, and Castiel knew he had hit the right spot. He snapped his hips sharply again, gaining another cry from Dean in response. The cries were music to Castiel's ears, and he kept it up.

"C-Cas," Dean moaned, biting down on his lip. Their bodies worked together in rhythm. A thin film of sweat had covered the both of them by this point, and somewhere in the back of Dean's mind he knew he couldn't leave today. Sam could leave on his own, if he wanted to, but there was no way Dean would go this quickly. But he might come quickly. "Oh, fuck, Cas," He whined. Their rhythm was growing more erratic.

"I'm close, Cas, fuck I'm close," Dean panted, his hips rocking. The sofa beneath them was creaking in protest to all the movement, but they men did not let up. Castiel leaned up a bit, staring down at Dean and holding onto his hips tightly. Castiel didn't know exactly what 'close' was, but at the same time he had a notion it had to do with what came at the end of this ordeal.

With a few more thrusts Dean was screaming for Castiel.

Castiel groaned, nearly snarling as he himself came, filling Dean up. He hunched his shoulders as his heart raced.

"Dean…" Castiel's voice was throaty and tired. Dean was panting below him, practically trembling. His hands fell from Castiel's body in exhaustion. Castiel grimaced as he pulled himself out. The friction was almost too much for him. "That… that was nice," Castiel murmured as he collapsed on top of Dean. They were both soaked with sweat.

"Cas, that's an understatement," Dean said, his voice hoarse. He felt as though he had been broken ,like a horse, but at the same time he was okay with it. The only noise now was their laboured breathing and the music coming from the stereo in the kitchen. Castiel pressed his head against Dean's chest, listening to his heart race. He found pride in the fact he had done this to Dean.

There was a certain kind of peace in the room but it was broken by the sudden vibrating of Dean's phone. Dean groaned and slid out from under Castiel, fumbling as he tried to get his phone from the pocket of his pants. Finally pulling it out, he answered it.

"Hello?"

"Dean, where the hell are you?"

"At a friend's. Look, Sammy, I need to stay a bit longer. You can head on out of town today if you want, but I'm just not feeling it."

"What? What do you mean, not feeling it? Dean?"

Dean held the phone away from his head.

"Dean?"

Dean pressed the end call button and placed his cell phone on Castiel's coffee table, turning to face Castiel. Castiel's eyes were wide, and Dean couldn't place the expression.

"Dean," Castiel said softly, reaching for Dean to come back and sit by him. Dean did so happily, leaning against Castiel's sweaty chest and closing his eyes, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Fuck Cas, I think I love you," Dean whispered softly. His stomach lurched as he realized maybe Castiel didn't feel the same.

"Love?" Castiel asked, his voice a monotone again. "Good," he added, feeling Dean tense up beneath him. He wrapped his arms protectively around Dean's shoulders and pulled a blanket over them, covering them up.

"Good," Castiel repeated, his eyes drifting closed as well.

Their clothing remained scattered about the apartment for the remainder of the night. They slumbered in each other's embrace as a cold wind howled through the town outside.

They were undisturbed in their world together.


End file.
